The Break (Or) How to Leave Your Lover
by VayuM
Summary: "Why did you have to make me love you? How can you show me so much passion and take it away?" Ron and Draco find out something is more important than their love. SLASH #DRON Post-Hogwarts


"Don't tell me what I can do Ronald! I know exactly what the next few years of my life will be like!"

Draco shouts at his lover, exulting in the agonised look in his blue eyes. He shouldn't be the only one feeling this pain. Face to face with Ron, he uses his two extra centimetres of height to advantage.

"I can't turn my back and act like this never happened." His grey eyes flashes at Ron, whose strong masculine face bore a childish look of wretchedness, red hair and freckles standing out distressingly against skin drained with defeat. Draco turns away, steeling his heart to not reach out and take Ron in his arms, kiss away the woeful expression on his face with words of love.

"I can't simply forget about you, about us. I can try, I will try, because I don't have a choice. Because I am who I am and you are who you are. Because our families have chosen two different paths and my father's desire to annihilate every muggle born and half breed makes him despise every family like yours that he considers blood traitors!"

AAAAHHHHHHH!" he screams, moving away as Ron tries to take him in his arms.

"Bloody hell Ron, don't act like it's going to be ok. I don't care what bloody Hermione says, she doesn't know how I feel. " He suddenly turns back to Ron his grey eyes piercing. "Or maybe she does. Maybe that's why she is trying to convince you that I will move on, so it will be easier for you to fall back into her arms, easier for you to forget me." Draco's voice breaks on the words, tears streaming down his patrician cheeks. This time he let Ron hold him, falling into his warmth and strength; holding on desperately to the now familiar scent of soap and sweat and pheromones on Ron's skin.

He sobs despairingly as Ron holds him. When he finally catches his breath he takes a step to the window of the cottage they have made their own; their hideaway from the realities of their lives; their escape into each other's arms. The view of the remote woods outside speaks of renewal, of the joy and relief of the coming spring. The thought brings more tears that he doesn't wipe away, tears are fitting to the circumstances and he knows there will be more, he will never be able to wipe them all away.

"My prince." Ron's breath tickles Draco's ears as he rests his face on Draco's tear soaked skin. Draco grasps Ron's hands as his strong arms encircle him again.

"My king." Draco hiccups with a smile. He can feel Ron's cheeks stretching into a wide smile and he laughs out loud through his tears. Their youthful torment of each other had been cemented into their relationship, a private jest that was sometimes a deep expression of love or passion.

"You're so daft." Ron whispers, softly kissing his cheeks, his ear, his hair.

"You make me daft," he replies as they chuckle against each other's skin. Draco leans further back to let Ron take his lips and ravage them thoroughly. Turning as the intimacy of their mouths compels him to seek more, burying his hands in Ron's unshorn mane, flicking against his tongue, submitting to the pull on his lips, as Ron holds him tight, bruising his mouth and weakening his knees.

Ron groans unintelligible, his hands pulling Draco's hips against his, heightening his arousal as he nips and sucks along his jawline, down the edge of his cardigan. Draco wantonly exposes his neck to the trail of marks his lover will leave in his wake, his breathing sharp and shallow.

"I need to forget you, I need to forget you," he whimpers, fresh tears seeping from his eyes as Ron burrows into his collar, his lips working their magic. Three years, almost, they'd had and it still feels like the first time. But then Ron always knew his weaknesses, even before they had rediscovered each other, Draco thought as he breaths in Ron's hair, his belly tightening with desire, already hard as Ron's teeth assails his collarbone.

"Noooo!" Draco eludes grasping hands, ignoring Ron's harsh moan as they pull apart.

"Bloody fuck!" Ron shouts, expelling a loud snarl as he shoves the love seat near the window. His hands pulling his long hair, he paces away from Draco and back, frustration in every line of his powerful body.

"NO!" Draco repeats sharply. Sex with Ron was no longer an option, no matter how much their bodies burn and long for it. He forces his eyes to not fall to Ron's bulging erection, to not succumb to the memory of the pleasure of Ron's thickness inside of him. Draco wraps his fingers around his arms, wanting nothing more than to seize Ron's massive organ, to tease it until he releases all over Draco, roaring out his pleasure.

"I'm sorry," Ron heaves, looking around the two room cottage that holds so many of their secrets, Draco's screams bouncing off the walls, Ron's desperate pleas for release between those lily white thighs; their brash declarations of love as they filled each other's mouths with laughter. The bathroom space was mostly taken up with the perpetually warm tub in which they had sometimes fallen asleep wrapped around each other, and a shelf for Draco's numerous face potions and Ron's sunscreens. In the main room a counter serves as their kitchen, there was a love seat and bookshelf near the window and a closet to ensure Draco's robes were always pristine. But Ron's eyes are glued to the most impressive piece in the room, a massive four-poster against the wall near the fireplace that had seen tenderness and want, violence and sated desires.

"Maybe I **_will_** forget you, you know." Draco speaks to break the tension cloying in the wide-open space, crossing his arms in a defensive stance. His grey eyes openly challenges Ron's glaring blue ones that seem to threaten bloody murder. "Maybe you and your BFFs are right," he taunts. Unable to face Ron's burning gaze that somehow reaches between his legs to intensify his erection, he turns again to the window.

He tries to ignore the release his body is begging for by filling his mind with the scenery that was warming to life beyond their walls. The hammock outside looked bereft without its cushions in the increasing glare of the sun. Draco focussed on thinking of what to do with the cushions that were under the back alcove that also sheltered their portkey, what to do with this property after Ron.

"I'll probably start by shagging everything out there with red hair," he taunts cruelly, the unspoken thought "Try to replace the sight and the taste and the thrill, the feel, of you." His elegant fingers unconsciously followed the recent trail of Ron's lips. "But there are only so many gorgeous redheads in Britain," he laughed dryly. "If that doesn't work then I'll shag anything that doesn't have red hair. Maybe I could bury your memory that way.

"Eventually, I may get tired of sharking. You will be married to your BFF with benefits by then and I'd be willing to settle for anyone who shags well enough." He meets Ron's indistinct gaze in the faint reflection of the window, "Then I'd probably be ready to bow to my father's ultimatum to provide an heir to the Malfoy fortune. I will settle with someone who loves me or at least wants to be with me so much they won't ask too many questions and won't care if I don't love them back. HA!"

He can feel Ron close at his back and his pulse and his prick refuses to behave, leaping in response to the heat and the scent of Ron's body. He turns quickly, then forces himself to move languidly to the love seat, straightening it slightly before reclining across its length. Ron was still facing the window when he looked up, apparently not buying his performance. Sensing the anger in Ron's tense shoulders, the strange stillness of of coiled muscles, his usually happily grinning face tight with determination, made Draco rage stridently.

"Maybe then my father will be happy. When I've stopped as he says 'trying to rebel against my heritage by rutting with a Weasley.' I am not a fucking child but he feels my being with you is a sign of rebellion, or exacting revenge for what he put us through." His voice raised by several decibels as he continued. "I am twenty-eight bloody years-old. I paid my penance and did what I had to do. I kept my head down and the Malfoy fortunes up but yet I can't fucking have what I want!"

It was his turn to pace, hands tightly clenched at his side. "Three years of sneaking around and hiding. Meeting in secret in my apartment and in the middle of bleeding nowhere. I love this place, I do, but having to cast twenty fucking charms _e-ve-ry-time_ can really take away from its sweetness. A lot of bleeding help that did. Not even three fucking years." He sits heavily on the loveseat, pressing his hands into his eyes and began to bawl in earnest.

The noise rouses Ron, who rushes to him only to be met by a barrage of blows from Draco's fists as he jumps from the love seat. "Why did you have to make me love you? How can you show me so much passion and take it away? I was fine, I was fine." Ron holds him tightly, keeping a fierce rein on his emotions as he allows Draco to let loose, abusing him with his fists and his words, until Draco stops fighting, quietly sobbing into Ron's chest. "I could have been fine Ronald, I could have lived without you. If you hadn't kissed me. I could have gone on believing that being with you would not have been as wonderful as I imagined, that loving you would not tear down my every defence, that being in your arms would not make me turn away from everything I know."

Draco's head hurt and his eyes burns with puffiness but neither he nor Ronald did anything to stop the tears. Only Ron's heavy breathing betrays any emotion, as if a spell had been cast to dampen his feelings. It was his love however that kept him in check. He purchased his control with the knowledge that it was the only way to break up with Draco with the least amount of damage. He had to; he hadn't been left with much of a choice..


End file.
